


Shampoo

by kyrenne



Category: Hyouka & Kotenbu Series
Genre: Classics Club shenanigans, Gen, mild Houtarou bullying, slight hints of houtaeru
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-20
Updated: 2020-03-20
Packaged: 2021-02-28 22:35:40
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,223
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23234839
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kyrenne/pseuds/kyrenne
Summary: Chitanda's superior sense of smell causes Houtarou some unintentional grief.
Comments: 6
Kudos: 53





	Shampoo

**Author's Note:**

> Written for the Hyouka discord's Spring 2020 event!
> 
> Day 7 - Something New

Houtarou sat with his chin in his hand reading a book while he listened to the other members of the Classics club chat, zoning in and out as their discussion lost or gained his interest. It was a nice afternoon, the sun bright but not too warm with summer still a few weeks off. Midterms loomed in the near future, but no one felt the need for extra studying quite yet. He idly turned another page, the sound loud due to a sudden lull in the conversation. 

“What’s up Chi-chan?” 

Houtarou glanced up from his book. Chitanda was moving her head slowly back and forth as if looking for something, a slightly puzzled look on her face. A Chitanda with that expression could lead nowhere good; Houtarou raised his book, ready to hide behind it if she turned her attention to him. 

“I was just wondering,” she said, her questioning gaze landing on Ibara. “Are you wearing perfume, Mayaka-san?” 

“Perfume? No…” 

Chitanda tilted her head. “How strange. I keep noticing a strange scent but I can’t think of what it could be from.” 

Ibara sniffed the air, turning her head this way and that as Chitanda had. “Well, I don’t smell anything.” 

“A mysterious scent, eh? Can’t say I smell anything either,” added Satoshi from his spot across the table. “What’s it smell like?” 

“It’s faint, but the main scent is definitely cherry blossoms. And the other,” Chitanda closed her eyes and inhaled deeply, “…Peach.” 

Satoshi leaned back in his chair, arms folded across his chest. “Well, it’s not from me, then. I don’t have anything that would make me smell like that.” 

Chitanda nodded in agreement. “Indeed, that’s why I assumed it was from Mayaka-san. It’s such a feminine scent, and so unusual for this room that it caught my interest.” She continued, innocently, “None of you have ever smelled like cherry blossoms or peaches.” 

That caught Houtarou’s attention. He raised an eyebrow at her from across the top of his novel.

“Does that mean you can smell us all the time?” Ibara asked, taken aback. Surreptitiously, she lifted the collar of her uniform and sniffed. 

Chitanda waved her hands in denial. “Oh no, not all the time!” she explained, “That is, most people have a general scent surrounding them, from perfume, or laundry detergent, or shampoo. But it doesn’t really register after the first couple times, unless something dramatically changes.” 

Satoshi, his interest caught, leaned forward over the table towards her. “Oh? So what do we normally smell like?” 

“Eh? Um, well…”

Houtarou let the conversation drop from his awareness. Something about what she had said nagged at him. But why? A mysterious scent… unusual… shampoo…? An ominous feeling of foreboding formed in his gut. A stray synapse fired in his brain, starting a chain reaction that sent his thoughts rewinding back to that morning… 

In general, Houtarou was the type to bathe in the evening. Yesterday however, for one reason or another, he had wound up putting it off until the next morning. Once in the shower, he had reached for his usual bottle of shampoo, only to find it empty. His dad, with whom he shared his shampoo, must have used the last of it and forgotten to replace it. This was a problem; other people may have been able to forgo the shampoo/conditioner routine, but without it Houtarou’s hair turned into an unmanageable bird’s nest. He’d had no choice but to borrow Tomoe’s.

Now, one of his sister’s more annoying quirks was her magpie’s eye for the strange, unusual or gaudy; the violently pink shampoo and conditioner set with its cutesy design of flower petals and fruit was a typical example of her eccentric taste. Houtarou had reluctantly reached for the bottle, the text on it guaranteeing users ‘Luscious, lustrous locks and a long-lasting scent’. He’d raised a brow at the extravagant promise but, needs must, and while shaking his head at the inexplicable oddness of sisters, squeezed a dollop onto his palm. The rest of his shower had proceeded as usual, and he’d thought nothing more of it the rest of the day.

Fast-forward to the present. The shampoo had delivered on one of it’s promises at least; ‘long-lasting’ was an understatement! If it was strong enough to last almost the entire day, then surely Chitanda’s superior nose would eventually follow the scent back to its source: Houtarou’s head.

Houtarou felt a bead of sweat roll down his face. The question was, how to get out of this with his dignity intact? He had no doubt Satoshi, and probably Ibara as well, would jump at the opportunity to tease him over this. What he needed to do was keep their attention, Chitanda’s in particular, off of himself until he could leave. He glanced at his watch; it was still a bit too early to leave without a decent reason. But the longer he stuck around, the greater the chance Chitanda would sniff out his secret. He’d just have to lie low for a little while longer. Once he’d gone, the mystery scent would vanish, and hopefully no one would put two and two together. And even if they did, all he had to do was shower again with a new bottle of his old shampoo, and deny any awkward questions. It wasn’t a perfect plan, but it would have to do. 

“What do you think, Houtarou?” Startled out of his thoughts, he looked up to see three pairs of eyes staring at him expectantly. He bit back a curse. Why did Satoshi have to drag him into the conversation? Alright, so Plan A: Don’t Get Involved had failed. Time for Plan B: Deflect. 

He shifted in his chair, casually bringing his book back up from where he’d unconsciously let it fall. 

“About what?” 

“C’mon, don’t pretend you weren’t paying attention.” Satoshi waved his arm, indicating the space surrounding them. “The smell! Where do you think it came from?”

“Don’t care,” Houtarou said bluntly, projecting an air of complete and utter disinterest in the question. He nonchalantly turned a page. “It’s probably from some student who had class in this room earlier today.” 

Chitanda shook her head. “No, if that were the case, I’m sure I would have noticed it as soon as I entered the room. The source of the smell must have come in after I got here, and I was the first one to arrive today.” 

Well, he couldn’t argue against that. He winced, hoping no one would remember that he’d been the last to enter the clubroom. Looking around the room for something else to blame for the scent, his eye landed on the open window. He cast out another lure. “Then it came from outside,” he said, nodding in the direction of the window. 

This time Ibara was the one to shoot down his theory. “There hasn’t been a breeze at all while we’ve been in here. And we’re on the third floor; how could the scent have travelled all the way up here?” She gave him that “use your brain” look she saved just for him. “It’s more likely that it’s coming from inside the clubroom.” . 

“And if the scent isn’t from me or Mayaka-san or Fukube-san…” Chitanda continued, her train of thought going in exactly the direction Houtarou did not want. 

He was rapidly running out of options. “Why does it matter?” he asked her with a hint of desperation. He knew asking such a question to Chitanda, patron saint of frivolous curiosity, was a futile effort, but he felt he had to at least try. 

“It doesn’t, I suppose, but I just can’t stop thinking about it!” 

Houtarou flinched. She’d spoken the magic words that had sealed his fate dozens of times over. And yet, he resisted; most of the mysteries Chitanda had made him solve didn’t involve personal embarrassment on his part. There was nothing left to do but enact Plan C: Run Away. 

“Well, if that’s all,” he said, pushing back his chair and casually reaching for his bag, “I’m going to head home for the day.” But before he could complete his escape, or even finish his sentence, a traitorous breeze blew through the open window, gently ruffling his hair. Everyone froze. Chitanda’s nostrils flared; her eyes widened in realization, her gaze zeroing in on him like a predator catching sight of its quarry. “Oreki-san…?” 

Houtarou slumped back in his seat, dropping his head in his hands; the picture of defeat. Apparently, the universe was out to get him today. From behind his hands he mumbled, “It’s my shampoo.” 

For a moment no one reacted. Then, as if on cue, both Satoshi and Ibara converged on him, twin expressions of glee on their faces. The duo crowded around him, leaning in to sniff exaggeratedly above his head. Houtarou swung an arm out in annoyance, protesting the violation of his physical space. 

“Ah, you were right, Chi-chan! Cherry blossoms and peach,” Ibara said with a smirk, easily avoiding his flailing limb. “Though it doesn’t exactly match your image.” 

Houtarou glowered at her. “I didn’t choose it!” he clarified, exasperated. “I ran out of mine so I had to use my sister’s this morning.” 

“You know, Houtarou,” Satoshi said, deliberately ignoring Houtarou’s explanation, “I always pegged you as more of a tropical fruits kind of guy.” 

“Or ‘ocean breeze’! That’d suit a lazy guy like Oreki.” 

“I dunno,” Satoshi said, warming to his theme, “I’m partial to more fruity scents for the contrast. You know, give Houtarou some added interest.” 

“What, like gap moe?” Ibara wrinkled her nose. “Mm, I suppose that makes sense. How about something more exotic, like mango or kiwi?”

Chitanda followed the back and forth, her confusion growing as Houtarou became more and more visibly annoyed. 

“But the cherry blossom and peach doesn’t smell bad at all!” Chitanda hastened to reassure him, as if that was his problem with the situation! “It’s just different than normal.” 

“That reminds me, Chitanda-san,” Satoshi said, his face splitting into an evil grin, “You never described what Houtarou usually smells like.” 

Houtarou blanched, then flushed. Oh, he was going to kill Satoshi!

Chitanda, earnest as always, missed the teasing undertone of Satoshi’s question. Her answer was as honest as it was ingenuous. “Well, it’s subtle, but I usually smell mint and another herb, like rosemary, but also a bit of spice. It’s masculine, but refreshing too. I think it’s quite pleasant and…” she trailed off, as if just now realizing her words were leading down a path she hadn’t intended. She looked down, a light pink dusting across her cheeks. “Um…” 

Satoshi and Ibara turned to look down at him with matching, knowing grins. 

Enough was enough. Houtarou stood abruptly, his chair clattering back, surprising his clubmates. He could feel his ears burning. “I’m leaving,” he said and, grabbing his bag, turned on his heel and walked out of the classroom, his stride quick and stiff with embarrassment.

He had just made it to the top of the staircase when he heard swift steps approaching from behind and a voice call out for him to wait. He considered ignoring it, but a hand reached out to grab at his arm, and he really didn’t want to risk tumbling them both down the stairs. His pursuer was, of course, Chitanda. 

“Please wait a moment,” she asked, looking up at him with violet eyes full of contrition. He quickly looked away, unable to hold her gaze. Her head drooped. She let go of his arm, stepping back a pace. “I didn’t mean to upset you,” her voice trembled, “I deeply apologize. Please forgive my rude and careless words.” She bowed from the waist, hands on her knees and her torso perfectly parallel to the floor.

Well, now he was embarrassed for a different reason.

“It’s fine, Chitanda, really,” he said, making ineffectual gestures for her to stand. “I’m not mad at you.” 

After a moment Chitanda raised herself from her bow, her expression skeptical. “But you left so suddenly, I was sure you were angry at what I said.” 

Houtarou scrubbed a hand through his hair and sighed, trying to think of a way to satisfy her without having to explain to her why telling a boy he smelled good, that she liked the way he smelled, was embarrassing. 

“I was just fed up with Satoshi’s and Ibara’s teasing, it wasn’t because of anything you said,” was what he eventually came up with. It wasn’t exactly the truth, but she didn’t need to know that. 

“Oh, I see,” Chitanda said, her shoulders relaxing in relief. “Do you want to come back to the clubroom? I’m sure Mayaka-san and Fukube-san will apologize when they understand.”

Houtarou shook his head. He didn’t need an apology from them. In fact, he had a feeling that he’d overreacted to the whole situation. Better to go home and let it all blow over and be forgotten. 

“It’s fine, I need to head home anyway. I’ll see you tomorrow, okay?” 

Chitanda smiled, and nodded. “Alright.” 

~

That evening, after a trip to the convenience store to buy the biggest bottle of unscented shampoo he could find, Houtarou stood in the bathroom, a familiar pink bottle in hand, watching as his sister’s shampoo washed away down the drain.


End file.
